In The Eyes of An Empress
by Infallible.Mirage
Summary: Being royalty demands sacrifice. She knew that, she just hadn't known how much, and how very painful it would be. Kallydar, *on hiatus*
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Wish I did...but no, I don't own these characters.**

**Prologue**

Kalasin's face clouded over with shock. She shouldn't have been feeling so surprised, she knew that. Knew that as the Crown Prince, Roald _had_ to become a knight, so Tortall would be safe when he inherited the throne. And that was the most important thing, that Tortall remain safe. That was her purpose in life, the purpose of all the royal children, to keep the country safe and prospering. It's what they'd been told from birth, and Kalasin knew she would always do her best to fulfill that duty.

But she had never really thought about duty in terms to their real lives. She'd always pushed the fact that Roald would have to go through knighthood training in order to actually become a knight. But now he had said it himself, he'd told Daine he was going to start training next year.

So they were going to be separated next year, could she bear it? Roald was the closest person in her life, what would she do, knowing she couldn't just run into his room any old time, just to laugh? After all, he'd be living with the other pages, so far away from the royal quarters. And she'd heard enough page stories from Aunt Alanna, and Father, and Uncle Gary and the others, to know it was a very busy life. When would she ever get to see Roald?

Of course, when Daine asked, Kalasin had said she was going to be a knight too. What else could she have said? It might have hurt Roald's feelings if she said she wasn't going to be a page too. And besides, what else would she do without Roald?

But she didn't really like fighting, even though she liked protecting people. And even though she knew it was bad to be vain, she liked looking pretty. She didn't think a knight would be like that, Lady Alanna was always complaining about the fuss of parties and such.

Speaking of Lady Alanna… Kalasin turned around. The lady knight had dismounted, and was kneeling down to comfort Thom. Kalasin felt sorry for Thom, she understood how he felt after all, with his mother going off to fight those great big ogres. Her heart twisted at the very thought of Roald being injuring or even…dead. Being a knight was dangerous!

Suddenly, she was ashamed of herself. Yes, being a knight was dangerous, but that didn't stop Lady Alanna, or the rest of her aunts and uncles, from fighting to protect and defend the kingdom. That wasn't going to stop Roald, so why should she be scared?

Alanna was pulling Thom into a hug, before mounting her horse again. She looked at Thom's sad face, and felt envy this time, instead of pity. He hadn't responded earlier, when Daine had asked him about his knighthood, and Kalasin knew he liked sorcery better than fighting.

Roald had watched his little sister's face go through different stages of worry. As cute as she looked, with her face all scrunched up in thought, he couldn't stand the fact that something would be bothering her. "Kally?" He ventured.

Kalasin started at the sound of her brother's voice. "Y-yes?" She stammered.

He peered at her. "What were you thinking about? You looked so serious."

Kalasin blushed, "I was just…just…"

Roald was alarmed to see tears filling Kally's eyes. "Kally? What's wrong?"

"Think about how unfair it is!" She blurted out, "that Thom has a choice, in his future, and we don't."

"We don't?" Roald's eyes showed his confusion.

"No, I mean, the whole knighthood thing…"

"Oh that." How could he act so casual about it? "We do have a choice. Or rather, at least you do. But didn't you already say you wanted to be a page too?"

The tears overflowed. He, the person who knew her best, didn't understand her. Why couldn't he see, that if he had to become a knight, then she did too? That her choice wasn't because she really wanted the life of a warrior, but because she couldn't just let him go off and leave her.

"Kally? Why are you crying? You should be happy. I'm happy, we're going to be pages together, and squires, and knights. Sure, you'll be a year behind, but we'll still be together…Kally?"

Looking at how excited he was cemented her resolve. It wasn't just a matter of following his footsteps anymore, she was going to _want _to be a knight. After all, if one royal knight was good, two had to be better. This would be her duty to herself, to Roald, and to the kingdom.

Roald was surprised when Kally wiped away her tears and grabbed his hand. There was a fierce, stubborn look in her eyes. That look that would be her trademark in later years, but he didn't know that. She met her eyes with his, and with all the dignity she could muster as a nine year old, and a princess, she promised him, "I'm going to be a knight, I _will_."

**A/N: My first FanFic :3, so I'd like to know if it's awful or not, please review. And I know it's kind of boring, but I was in that deep-thoughts frame of mind. Oh, and Kally's only nine in this scene, so I was aiming for what her thoughts would have been like at that age. **


	2. Decision

**Disclaimer: Don't own the characters...**

**grayscales: My first reviewer...I'll be forever grateful. :) And thank you...I just realized the title sounded like In The Hands of the Goddess...**

**bookworm.amm: This chapter kind of answers your question, doesn't it? Thanks also.**

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Nine years later, Kalasin stood in front of him with that same strength in her eyes. Only this time, she wasn't crying, and he wasn't close enough to hold her hand. It was Kally's 18th birthday, and she had an announcement to make.

And this time, it was Roald's turn to feel pensive, because he knew what she was going to say. Despite his own feelings, he smiled encouragingly at his sister. He had heard the tremor in her voice as she had asked for everyone's attention. She was nervous enough without adding his feelings to it.

Kalasin took a deep breathe, and composed herself. As much as she wished she didn't have to make this decision, she did, and she had to look in control when she made it. For all her efforts, she couldn't banish the shaky tone in her voice as she started, "Everyone, there's something very important I have to say."

"First of all, I'd like to thank you all for being here, on my 18th birthday. It means so much to me that everyone would want to help me celebrate this special day. I'd like to thank my family, and my friends, for sticking by me for 18 years, and helping me become the person I am today." She scanned the room for their faces; Uncle Gary, Daine, Uncle Raoul, Buri, Lady Alanna, George, her parents, her siblings, and everyone else she called family.

Seeing those familiar faces, supporting her, gave her strength. She spoke again, with a strong, clear voice. "Part of becoming the person I am today, was learning about responsibilities, and duties. And my duty as a princess is to do the best thing for my kingdom. The king and queen, along with their advisors, have decided it would be in this country's best interest to be on friendly terms with Carthak."

Kalasin paused, here came the hard part. "To seal this alliance between our two countries, it was proposed that I marry Emperor Kaddar of the House of Iliant quite a few years ago. I was given until my 18th year to think about it, so that whatever choice I made, I would be making it as an adult, and aware of all the impacts of my situation."

"I believe-I believe an alliance with Carthak would be beneficial to both our countries. Carthak is a rich, powerful nation, with stores of magic and learning. And the Emperor is said to be a kind, caring man, and a strong ruler." She nodded the Carthaki embassy. "I have no doubt I will care for him, and for his country. So my decision, my decision is---" Her voice faltered.

She bowed her head, awed by the realization of all that she would proclaim and promise, if she said that one little word. Kalasin raised her eyes, and met her father's proud and wistful gaze. "Yes," she said, with that look back in her eyes. "Yes, I will do my duty, for my people, and my country. I will marry Kaddar of Carthak."

The room was silent. Those who knew Kally best were still a little shocked that she had said it, even though they had known what her decision would be. The others weren't sure how to respond, especially since the royals and the advisors weren't saying anything. The Carthaki embassy rescued the awkward situation by starting a polite round of applause.

Roald looked at Kally anxiously; the smile she was wearing was a perfect example of a noblewoman's mask, but he knew it was a mask nonetheless. He was startled when Kally looked him directly in the eyes for the first time this evening. Through the fading applause, he heard her whisper fiercely, "I _will_."And he felt a terrible guilt squeeze his heart, because he knew that she was making this decision for him, and to protect future that he would rule one day.

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**A/N: I wrote this a couple months ago, when I was still in the same mood as the previous chapter, so it's still kind of...deep and melancholy. Think of it as sort of a second prologue, I'm hoping I can actually start the story next chapter, and use the humour I put as my genre. Maybe. **


	3. Preleaving Homesickness

**Disclaimer: Quote previous disclaimer**

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**Thanks for all...4 reviewers:) I finally understand why all writers demand reviews, I felt so giddy last night. Please do keep reviewing and making me happy.**

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Roald found her kneeling in front of her window staring into the Royal Forest. Despite his heavy thoughts, he grinned as he remembered the tantrum she had thrown to keep her window after the hurrok attacks on the little ones. 

Roald knew he was proceeding into dangerous territory, Kalasin had inherited Thayet's fiery dislike for interrupted thoughts, but he also knew her thoughts must be growing more and more desolate. Best to lighten the mood. He walked over and kneeled beside her. "Little sister," he teased, drawing on years of etiquette lessons to make his tone the perfect courtier's,"You look every inch a princess with your hands folded so demurely."

He saw a crooked smile on the side of her face as she replied in the same court speech"Thank you brother dear, but that's the problem isn't it? I'm not a princess, I'm an empress now."

Roald turned her to face him, and said earnestly, "No you're not, Kally. Not yet."

"Yes, I am." She replied simply. "There's no way to back out of it now."

"You want to back out?" As much as he wanted Kally's happiness, Roald was alarmed at what this might mean for Tortall.

"Don't look so worried, Roald. I wouldn't abandon Tortall now. I've said yes. I'm going through with it."

"You'll be a good empress, Kally."

She shook her head. "It's not that. I know I can be a good empress for Carthak, and I can hold my own in the court."

"Then…?"

"The wife part, Roald." He had rarely seen such despair in her eyes. "I don't know, how to act, and, what to do. Or, if he'll be kind, or who he'll expect me to be, or —" Her voice broke off.

He hated seeing her this upset! "You didn't spend all those years at King's Reach for nothing. The countess taught you everything you need to know about social functions, and manners. As for Kaddar, he came with Daine's recommendation, don't you trust that?"

"It's been so many years, maybe he's changed. Or maybe he just showed her his good side, and how do we know the Carthaki descriptions aren't to flatter him? What if I make a mistake? What if I say something wrong?"

"You won't say anything wrong. You didn't make any mistakes when you spent the winter at the Maren court, right?"

"That's different. This isn't a social visit, or a diplomatic mission. I'm going to be living with these people for the rest of my lives! And in Maren, I had Uncle Gary, Daine, Liam…they won't be in Carthak, Roald! None of you will! I'll be all alone, and I don't know if I'll ever see any of you again." She burst into tears.

Roald pulled her into a hug. "Oh Kally, you'll be fine. If you don't trust the Carthaki description, all of George's spies have said Kaddar is kind and noble. I'm sure he'll teach you about Carthaki affairs. You always wanted to help people, right? This is your chance! You can rule Carthak fairly, make some changes, think of how many people's lives you'll touch."

Her voice was muffled in his tunic, "But none of those people will be family. No one I know, no one I've grown up with, no one who understand me."

Kally had always been especially close to all the adopted aunts and uncles they had. He knew her heart was breaking at the thought of leaving everyone behind. "They'll visit. Really. After all, most of our adopted aunts and uncles are on the councils, they're bound to show up in Carthak from time to time."

"And the little ones, our parents?"

"The little ones have more freedom than you and I did. They'll be able to travel from time to time."

She wiped her eyes, and knelt upright. Her voice was dead as she stated, "But you won't. Nor mama and father. They couldn't leave the country so long, even in the hands of Lady Alanna."

"Maybe you could come back sometimes." He knew the suggestion was futile, but tried anyways.

She knew too. "No, they wouldn't let their empress go running home, not for years at least."

The thought of never seeing his little sister again… "When 'years' are up then." He tried to smile, "And my first act as king will be to decree I must visit my Kally."

That made her laugh. "Perhaps we'd better stick to the idea of me coming back home. I don't think Tortall would appreciate their ruler leaving his country right after becoming king."

"Right." He was so glad the smile was back on her face. "That _might_ just undermine my reputation."

Her face turned serious again, "And you know that's why I'm doing this right? For you?"

He winced inside, he knew Kally always pleased other people before herself, and they had always had a special bond. But that she had made such a big sacrifice, for him? To mask this , he took a teasing tone, "Losing your memory already? It was Father who talked you into this, or do you not remember Mama not talking to him for months?"

"Well, yes. I'm doing this for them, because they've worked so hard to make Tortall stable. And because it's my duty. But this will fulfill my promise to you."

"Your promise…" His voice drifted off. "Do you mean, the knighthood promise?"

She nodded solemnly, and for a moment, he saw the 9 year old Kally standing in front of him with fierce determination. "Oh Kally, we were so little then. You couldn't have known that the Crown needed you to marry." He knew she'd always felt guilty about having to break that promise. "Besides, I released you from that promise when you went off to King's Reach."

"Still. I wanted to be a knight, so I'd always be with you. So I could watch out for you. And since I couldn't do it that way, I'll do it this way. I'll marry to give Tortall an ally, to protect your country."

He hugged her close. "You know I love you more than anything else, and I hate to see you go away. But if this is your decision, if you're sure…" He pauses as she nodded. "We'll write each other, and if I can possibly visit…"

"Or if I can. We can talk in the fire too, right?"

"Carthak's pretty far away, you'd better polish up your magic then."

"_My_ magic?" Kally looked indignant. "Why mine?!"

_This_ was his Kally. "Alright, mine too. And keep up your strength. Eat well, rest, be careful —"

She giggled. "Stop, Roald. You're starting to sound like the Countess. Errrr…" she blushed, "No offense to her."

"Oh Mithros!" He wailed dramatically, "How my dear little sister has insulted me! But I'm serious, Kally. Keep yourself healthy. I'll ask George to put some of his spies on you, and if that Kaddar mistreats you, I'll go down to Carthak and kick his ass!"

She giggled helplessly.

"What? What?" He asked, confused.

"Oh, nothing, " she said between laughs, "just, the thought of you beating someone up…" and she collapsed again.

"Kalasin!" Now it was his turn to look indignant.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She calmed down. "Don't be upset Roald, you're just so peaceful and quiet, it's hard to think of you like that. Besides, it would create quite the diplomatic scandal, imagine."

Roald grinned. "Okay, you're right. That was a stupid suggestion. But speaking of diplomats, the Carthakis, and some of our fussier nobles, are a little upset you left so quickly."

"It's my birthday dinner, I can leave if I want to."

"Do you really want me to stress how your particular timing didn't look very good for the marriage plans?"

She flapped her hand at him, "No, no. I understand perfectly." She sighed, "Then I guess we'd better get back."

..."You're not moving."

"Hush. I'm preparing myself to have to reply politely to hundreds of '_Oh what a lucky girl you are! Such a rich country_…'" She changed her voice to sound exactly like Baroness Quise of Emmelvire.

"Don't worry. I'll stay by your side the whole time. If anyone gets too annoying, we'll tell them we're marrying each other."

Kally cackled, "You're getting very good at creating potential scandals. Why don't you just stay by my side and pinch me if I start snoring?"

Roald pretended to consider it carefully, "Alright, I guess I could do that." He held his arm out. "If my lady pleases?"

She grinned. "The lady pleases," and headed for the door.

Strains of their conversation came echoing back into the room as they left---"_Oh...if only if I were twenty years younger, what a handsome devil that Kaddar is, oh imagine!_"

"That's way too silly to be the Baroness."

"Ever sat through an afternoon of tea and 'delightful chat' with her?"

There was no response to that.

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**A/N: Three chapters in two days, I'm so proud of myself! Of course...I did write all three, months ago. So the updates will probably get slower now, unless anyone is willing to give me ideas? And if all you wonderful people review, which I know you will...-hinthint- please tell me if any of these made you silent-laugh at least. I'm not so good with the humour part.**


	4. Inherited Seasickness

**Disclaimer: Bleh. You know the drill.**

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Prince Liam hid his giggles behind a rather massive palm as he watched his sister stumble toward the door that led to the lower decks. He felt slightly guilty for laughing at her misery, but he couldn't help it. It was rather hilarious to see the wonderfully graceful, poised Princess-soon-to-be-Empress Kalasin ­－ who acted more royal than the actual king and queen, lurch across the ship like a drunk Raoul of Goldenlake running away from court ladies.

Kalasin paused, supported by the frame of the door. Liam heard her poisonous tone clearly, even though she didn't bother to turn around, "You know, I can hear you snickering into those monkey hands of yours. By that, I don't mean the little howler monkeys. I mean the big ones, the fat, hairy ones from the mountains of Galla." That done, she tossed her hair and descended down the steps.

It would have made for a very dramatic exit, _if_ she hadn't forgotten to hold the railing, and _if_ she hadn't made herself dizzy by that hair tossing. The end result was that Liam heard a slight scuffling sound, a high-pitched yelp, and then a crash as Kalasin tripped down the stairs.

He put on his best courtier face as he walked away, satisfied that Raoul of Goldenlake would have made a _much_ bigger thud.

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Royals were supposed to be calm and reasonable, they were supposed to endure everything without complaint, and go through all trials with a well mannered smile and intelligent conversation. 

But Kalasin didn't feel very royal right then, she was much too miserable. So she allowed herself a breach in decorum, climbed under the covers with her clothes still on, and sulked.

She blamed Lady Alanna. The logical part of her brain told her that was impossible, that even if the Lioness had once been on _intimate terms_ with her father, she couldn't possibly have inherited sea sickness from her because of that. But she was feeling much to vile to care. She had been feeling nauseous ever since she set foot on the boat, even before it had moved out of the dock, and the feeling got worse the closer they got to Carthak. And now she had a bruise all down her hip. Kalasin muttered curses at the sea, the ship, and her stupid little brother.

Why did Liam come, why? She knew Roald was too busy as a new knight to accompany her, but really, Liam?? Did her parents hate her?

She sighed inwardly. She really did love all of her family, and had always had a soft spot for her younger siblings. And true, Liam was witty, and charming, if a bit conceited. But he wasn't sympathetic at all and she. was. not. HAPPY!

Kalasin drifted off to sleep in the middle of planning an angry letter to her parents demanding they ship Liam back home, or failing that, send a very large sock over as soon as possible so she could stuff up his mouth. No wait...a pair of socks. Liam had a very big mouth.

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"Liam...are we there yet?" Kalasin poked her head out of the cabin door for the first time in days. 

Liam shook his head ruefully as he saw that she was as gorgeous as ever, even with slightly green skin and disheveled hair. It was such a shame really, that she got the good looks. After all, she was to be in an arranged marriage, Kaddar would have to take her even if she looked like a cow, which was hard to imagine. Those genes really should have been saved for the younger royals who needed to find their own brides and grooms, although he had to admit his own face wasn't exactly hideous, judging by the number of young ladies that fell into his arms and often his bed.

"Still leagues away darling sister."

A very hard object smacked him on the head. Oh, he hadn't seen that comb in her hand. "I heard the herald's call of land fifteen minutes ago."

"Fifteen minutes, and you still look like that? You might have _used_ that comb you know!"

"_Liam_..."

"Fine, fine. We're entering the harbour actually. You can't see land yet, the captain says it's huge."

Kalasin moved cautiously up to stand beside him, leaning on the railings with her head in her hands. "I can't tell you how glad I am this voyage is over. To be on solid ground again..." her tone was reverent, "maybe I'll even be able to keep food down. I hate bloody ships, never, never, never want to see one again."

Three large ships sailed into sight on the horizon. Liam looked at the ornate, overly-decorated vessels with confusion, until he finally remembered a slightly important piece of information the captain had given him days ago. He was going to pass it on to Kalasin...well, no time like the present.

"Ah...Kally? I may have forgotten to mention one slight detail. Carthak's holding the welcome reception for you on their navy barges."

He walked quickly out of Kalasin's throwing range. That comb had hurt!

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**A/N: Thanks to all the wonderful people that reviewed, and especially to grayscales for that great idea. I was just waiting for an excuse to break apart the Kalasin mode of "prim&proper&royal"! Please R&R, and sorry I didn't update for awhile. Wasn't in the mood, but yaywinter vacation!**


	5. Unfinished Dinners

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the name of the woman swooning after Kally. :D**

**queenshinkokami: Thank you, thank you. Roald's getting kicked out of this story though, hope you'll like Kaddar just as well. **

**grayscales: Again, thanks so much for the idea. **

**Alanna-Sama: Poor Liam? Nah. He's just a stuffy idiot. **

**abyssgirl: Glad it was adequate, glad you reviewed. Less glad your first impression of me what apparently that bad. **

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",,,welcoming of this great union between...surely fortune smiles upon…strong and mighty allies…all of this empire…great feelings for our dearest Kalasin…" the minister of foreign relations droned on and on, when all Kalasin wanted to do was sleep.

She restrained herself from collapsing right then and there by reminding herself that falling face flat into the bowl of onion cream soup wasn't going to do anything for her complexion, and might very well ruin her hair. That thought stopped her from tipping forward, it didn't stop the scowl that spread across her perfect features.

Funny. She had spent her entire life training to be gracious and poised, to be the perfect Empress for this empire. Yet the closer she got to being an Empress, the more her training receded. Maybe it was lack of sleep, or maybe it was homesickness. In any case, any of her friends and family at home would have been speechless if they had heard the utterly un-Kally thoughts that were running through her head. First and foremost was disgust at the minister who had been talking for at least twenty minutes...his 'dearest Kalasin' indeed!

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From the other side of the long, long banquet table Kaddar watched fascinated as Kalasin's face slipped from it's perfect courtier's mask. Amazing, he hadn't known that this girl _could_ scowl! 

From the mooning expressions around the table, Kaddar realized that all the men of his court had already fallen in love with Kalasin. And some of the women too, judging by the looks Salyaine of Ulyme kept sending in that direction. Was he the only person who wasn't swooning with lust? Although...that probably wasn't a good thing, considering he was also the only person who would have to marry her. No one else in the world would have described marrying Kally as something they 'had' to do. In fact, Kaddar knew many of the courtiers were already planning to assassinate him and elope with Kalasin. Yet he just didn't feel attracted to the Tortallan princess.

He couldn't deny she was beautiful, with her hair curled in ringlets at the front and flowing down her back. Her poise was also perfect; head up and shoulders back, with a rigidity he had only ever before seen in statues. Maybe that was the problem, she was just so much like a statue! Perfect. Too perfect. He had seen her gracious smile, her regal nod. He had heard her polite conversation, and her diplomatic speeches. It was like she was programmed to do exactly the right thing at the right time, and nothing else. Really, he'd never seen her without that mask of polite attention. He'd no doubt. She'd make a wonderful Empress, but could he live with a woman who seemed incapable of showing emotion? Kalasin was so unlike...no. He couldn't think about _her_ anymore. It was his duty to marry _this_ girl, and he'd do it, but...

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At the Emperor's right hand side, Zaimid Hetnim shook his head ruefully. Kalasin was still scowling at her soup, and Kaddar was glowering at his main course. This wasn't a good sign as to the successfulness of this marriage. 

Zaimid poked at his roasted scallops with a frustrated sigh, Kaddar was being so stupid! Here he was, engaged to the most beautiful woman in the universe, with her luminous eyes, perfectly curved lips, petite nose, flowing hair, _amazing_ body... Ahem, he was noting all of that with a casual observer's eye of course. Anyways, Tortall had offered Kaddar the Crown Princess as a bride, and he was too busy pouting because she wasn't... Ugh. It had been seven years. Seven years! And Kaddar was still pining after her.

He stabbed through the scallop and brought it to his lips, chuckling at Kaddar's impracticality. Foolish cousin. He wouldn't be so stupid as to fall in love with a woman he could never obtain. Then he caught a flicker of movement at the far end of the table as Kalasin turned to talk to the official sitting beside her. Zaimid gazed at her, riveted, as his scallops lay uneaten on the plate.

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Later that night, Varice Kingsford frowned as she surveyed the cleanup of the banquet hall. Three entire meals were left untouched, she couldn't help but wonder at the reason...

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**A/N: R&R please. I think it was too many viewpoints to put in one chapter...but if I hadn't done it this way the chapter would have been even more ridiculously short than it already is. As for the shortness, I thought it was better this way, then to bore you with long descriptions of what they ate in such. I'm wondering if I was right...why don't you all tell me in your reviews:) **


	6. Capitalization

**It would be very bad advertising to bash my own chapter...so I'll let you read and decide yourselves. CC much appreciated. **

**If this seems stilted, well, that's because it took me over a week to write it. Needless to say, this wasn't my most inspired moment...updates may be slow for awhile, as I have to push past this wedding part. I have some _interesting_ ideas for afterwards though...read, review, and supply me with more. ;)**

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Kalasin looked in the mirror and raised an eyebrow, a trick learned after _hours_ of practice with Uncle George. An hour ago, she would have been quaking at the thought of walking this dress down the aisle. But an hour ago, she hadn't known that she _wouldn't_ actually be walking down any aisle. 

There would _be_ no elaborate wedding ceremony, a fact the Tortallan delegates had not been aware of, as Carthak had been very adamant that it would plan and execute any and all events on Carthaki soil. Carthaki weddings consisted of a minister of records, the bride, the groom, the immediate family, and the signing of the marriage papers.

If Kally had been feeling like herself, she would have found it ironic that a people so devoted to extravagant displays of wealth and power would have such simple 'weddings'. So simple that she was forbidden to wear the dress her mother had specially commissioned from Seamstress Lalasa, because as Princess Fazia had sniffed, there was no need to parade in finery in front of the minister of records.

And of course, Fazia had completely disregarded Kalasin's suggestion that she wear the dress for the parades and parties later on, saying that her wardrobe for the entire day had already been accounted for, and all articles of clothing were of the _highest_ standard and style. Implying, of course, that the Tortallans had no sense of style _or_ occasion.

Again, if Kally had been feeling normal, she would have been offended at the not-very-subtle insult towards her country, but she was much too terrified of the imminent introduction of Fazia as her mother-in-law.

Mother-in-law. A word, or perhaps three, that terrified men and women alike, all over the world. Kally had heard the words spoken distastefully by young knights, with dread by engaged noblewomen, murderously by the merchants' sons, and in so many other tones, _very_ seldom positive. She had heard the most horrifying stories about interference, snubbing, the high-handed handling of private affairs…but all those stories paled in comparison to the much-too-real figure of Fazia Iliniat.

The soon-to-be Empress gulped ungracefully. She was…in a word, indescribable. No, maybe there was another word…_blunt_.

Kally had grown up with painfully frank and direct women as role models, the Lioness being an infamous example. But The Princess…which was what she was called, reverently or otherwise by most of the court, was blunt in a different way. Talking to her was like standing with a practice sword aimed at your throat, knowing the dull tip could kill you just as easily as the steel of a real sword, just more painfully.

Fazia had already made it clear that Kalasin was not, and could not ever _be_ good enough for her son. It wasn't just the usual protectiveness of a mother, the sentiment that no one would be good enough for their little baby. No. Fazia had been sure to point out that there were_ plenty_ of women worthy of the Emperor of Carthak, but _she_ did not happen to be one of them. What amazed Kally was that The Princess had been able to convey all of that within the minimal, carefully scripted conversations they had had, with courtiers encircling them throughout.

It did not bode well for Kalasin that her first enemy in this foreign land was an evil genius, highly influential member of court, and the mother of her future husband.

The nine gongs from the bell tower reminded her that the word 'future' would not be in use for too much longer.

She fingered the silky fabric of the dress, feeling the texture of the lace trim roll against her palm, and made a fast decision. Ringing for a maid, she mentally composed the note she would send to The Princess. She corrected herself, the note she would have delivered to The Princess _later_, preferably when it was already too late to make her change.

So what if it wasn't necessary? So what if it was only a sheet of paper? This was _her_ wedding, _her_ future, and by all the Horse Lords, she was going to wear_ her_ dress. Kalasin scanned her figure once more in the mirror and nodded in satisfaction as the maid slipped into the room with a curtsy.

And if this was too fancy for the minister of records...well, the man had a boring job, he deserved a treat once in awhile.

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**Also, thanks to all the reviewers. I have already spent _much_ too long in front of the computer screen to comment on them individually, but you are all beautiful, wonderful, extraordinary people.  
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	7. To Be Fetched

**Finally finished. And I think this chapter is actually long enough to have a scroll bar, for which I'm quite proud of myself for. The story however...that's for you to decide... As always, please point out any spelling-grammar mistakes. Also, I was unsure about some of the sentence phrasings, so if anything reads weirdly for you, let me know. **

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Kally perched gingerly on the side of her bed, mentally going over the list of weird - the princess in her replaced the word with '_exotic'_ - customs of the Carthaki empire. 

She silently admonished herself for _ever_ thinking that Carthak would allow a simple, dull wedding. It seemed she had barely managed to finish the flourishes on her signature before she was swept into a rapid whirlwind of shrill, grasping maids, lacy ribbons, and suffocating corsets – so _this_ was The Princess's revenge.

In the ensuing mess of balls and banquets that followed, Kalasin had absolutely no time to ponder upon - scare herself with - the commitment she had just made, and even less – if such a thing were possible, to idly wonder if the events had been planned with just that in mind.

When she had been young enough to have foolish fantasies, Kally had always imagined, like any other little girl, that her wedding would be the most special day of her life. Being Tortall's daughter had worn away her old, silly thoughts of dashing heroes and swooning brides, but still Kally had held on to the hope that her wedding day would at least be _memorable_.

Random images flashed through her head; the white glint of teeth exposed in smiles that seemed to hold something other than congratulations, the twisting smirk Fazia made no attempt to hide every time someone gave her a compliment that was not _quite_ it, the leers of several drunk courtiers accompanied by inappropriate stares and equally improper suggestions.

Seasoned diplomat or not, surely no one had suspected Kalasin would retain nothing of her wedding day but various people's mouths! She tried to remember something, _anything_ else, but the rest of the day had blurred into an indiscernible clutter of glittering jewels and twisting cloth.

Of course, there _was_ also the astonishing amount of lice creeping around in assorted hairpieces, seen _oh_-so-clearly as the owners bowed and curtsied, but she was trying very hard not to think about _that_.

That train of thought brought her to another topic she didn't particularly want to think about, and she quickly forced her mind back into memory lane: this evening, to be exact.

She actually remembered the evening…though she really could have lived without it. Looking back, it was _almost_ funny, it would be _funny_ sometime during the years to come, but living through it had been squirming, blushing torture.

Of the many things Carthak had conveniently forgotten to inform her of, the wedding night rituals had probably – there was _much_ competition, been the one that had humiliated her the most.

Or perhaps the word 'forgotten' was slightly a stretch. After all, her maid _had_ told her that in respect of a newlywed couple's privacy, the preparations for the wedding night would be private. She just hadn't mentioned the Carthaki definition of "private" was no less than two of Kaddar's sisters and his _charming_ mother, the sarcasm being very much evident in Kally's thoughts.

Truly, considering Carthaki standards, it _was_ quite a small ensemble.

If the maid hadn't dropped her off in her new rooms _without_ clarifying the meaning, she might have been fine. If Kally hadn't mistakenly thought that she was supposed to get under the covers, she might have been fine. If she hadn't been in the process of changing into her nightgown when Fazia and the others walked in, she might have been fine. If they had made a bit more noise to inform her of their arrival, she _might_ have been fine.

As it was, she was struggling to put her nightgown on underneath the covers (being considerably terrified of Kaddar walking in on her changing), when Fazia gave a furious shriek and threw off the blankets.

She likely hadn't made the best first impression on her new sisters-in-law – especially since she had fallen half-dressed, _off_ the bed with said blankets.

Following a blinded search for her bathrobe, and the subsequent scrambling to put it on, Kally had surfaced from the other side of the bed to find Fazia glaring at the discarded nightgown on the floor.

Having composed herself as much as she could've under the circumstances, Kally very calmly inquired as to the matter, while bracing herself for the blistering attack that was to come.

The malice of the smile she was met with made her wince slightly. The words that came next were worse.

"Kalasin, _darling,_ why would there be a problem? I walk in to greet my newest daughter, and instead find the _supposedly_ modest princess of a_supposedly_ refined realm in a half-naked, flailing mess. But then again, I expected as much."

Kally bristled visibly at the questioning of her character and her country. "Well I apologize for that, Princess. But perhaps this awkward situation could have been avoided if _this_ refined realm had seen fit to inform me of the traditions concerning the arrival of certain guests in one's private rooms."

Finally those lessons at King's Reach were paying off.

The fourteen year old Kally had once looked at the Countess oddly and asked innocently _why_ she had to learn how to be subtle in her insults, because surely she wouldn't need to insult anyone?

Now she knew.

The mocking smile hardened and twisted. "My dear, we were simply coming to help you prepare for certain upcoming events, surely you can appreciate that?"

"I was preparing well enough myself." This was when Kally had started blushing.

"That's not how it looked like." And _this_ was when the blush had started deepening. There was no chance to respond before the next remark. "Besides, you're quite fortunate we came. I shudder to think of what a spectacle you would have made of yourself in _that_." She inclined her head towards the nightgown still by her feet, and shuddered delicately.

Kally examined the gown in confusion. It appeared perfectly modest, being white, loose, and long enough to cover her ankles, if perhaps a little low in the back – and she said as much.

Fazia shook her head pityingly and kicked the offending piece of clothing out of sight. "I supposed we mustn't blame you. Some parents simply do not see the benefits of teaching their children values."

The two sisters had taken this chance to assure Fazia that she was the antithesis of_ those_ kinds of parents, and so very quickly excused themselves from the situation, stating that their dearest mother seemed to have it all under control, and they had important engagements to meet.

Kally saw they seemed to be suppressing giggles as they gracefully glided out.

The next hour found her being strapped into a tight corset '_because there's just nothing else we can do about your figure_', stuffed into a closed-back dress '_why there's no need for him to _know_ you're easy – sorry darling, I meant free spirited'_, and pushed into a chair as her hair was styled into curls '_surely __you weren't going to leave your hair looking like_ that?'.

Kally finally had to stop snapping back when she realized the combing of her hair was _much_ more painful than it strictly needed to be. She didn't relish the thought of greeting her new husband with bunches of hair missing from her scalp.

The Princess had left with the helpful advice that Kaddar would come to fetch her – yes,_ fetch_ her, through the adjoining door that led to his quarters, and if Kalasin would be so kind as to at least _act_ like an honest woman, that would be much welcomed by the court.

Kally had been so relieved to see The _Evil_ Princess go, that it had taken a few minutes for the fear that had been plaguing her all day to set in. When it finally did, she was a little surprised at how strangely little of it there was. The realization that she hadn't been paralyzed with dread and fallen off the bed…almost made her fall off the bed.

She jumped onto the center of the bed and thought about this new revelation.

The 'visit' from Kaddar's mother had left her too depleted to worry much about the son's. Even if the neckline was that of a grandmother's, Kally had to admit she looked pretty good in the dress. She already knew Kaddar was gracious and kind, so _maybe_ it wouldn't be so bad. And, she still had all of her hair.

She pushed away the last lingering bit of worry by repeating a mantra of "duty, duty, duty" while telling herself reassuringly that everyone said that this was supposed to be _fun_.

Finally she was comfortable enough with the idea of this happening, though not with the honor of being _fetched_, that she decided she may as well be warm while she waited. Burrowed into the blankets, Kalasin was completely – no, almost completely ready for the knock on her door.

But it never sounded.

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**Well? Review please. **

**&I realize "The Evil Princess" thing was kind of...off, but I couldn't change it here without going back and fixing everything in previous chapters. **


	8. The Absence of Nobilities

**A complete wipeout of my files, a major depression over the Si Chuan earthquake, and a ridiculous amount of completely asinine projects, performances, and competitions. And those are just some of the reasons for why I haven't updated in months. But now that I have, why not read? And hope with me that the next chapter doesn't take as long.**

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Kalasin had learned at a very young age that there were ways to get around the image of an eternally serene and pleasant-faced royal. In particular, she'd learned that tilting her head to the side just slightly allowed her hair to act like a shield as her mask broke, during those rare moments when she _had_ to let her real feelings come through, protocol and composure be damned.

This was one of those moments.

Thankfully, her hair was hanging loosely around her shoulders, not yet swept up into whichever elaborate hairstyle she had to carry about for the day. It only took a slight fidget before the first strands of black began to fall over her face, perfectly timed to cover the grimace that had just emerged upon it.

When Kalasin had imagined Carthaki servants, she had always pictured timid, withdrawn little maids, scuttling around in fear of a sharp rebuke or a raised hand. Kalasin had thought fondly of how, with kind words and gentle gestures, she would slowly be able to draw them out of their shells until they became strong, independent women and trustworthy friends.

_How_ had she been so naïve?

She hadn't considered the free, paid servants that she'd specifically requested could act quite differently from the terrified slaves that the others remembered.

And now? She wasn't sure whether to be appalled or delighted that the respect she received from the maids that The Princess had handpicked (it had seemed so _nice_ of her at the time) couldn't have been farther from the never-ending 'Nobilities' that Daine was always complaining about.

As the pointed whispers captured her ears again, Kalasin shook even more hair onto her face, wishing the curtain it provided would block out sound as well as sight. Appalled, she decided. _Definitely_ appalled.

It wasn't really the gossip that bothered her per se. Even_ she _had often been caught up in the wicked throes of court gossip, giggling with clusters of other girls behind open fans at the newest scandalous rumors. Living at King's Reach for most of her teenage years had spared her much involvement in the intricacies of court life, but she knew how to charmingly discredit false rumors of a more personal kind, with little more than a bemused glance.

Unfortunately, she could hardly glance individually - bemused or otherwise, at all the women that were bustling around her dressing room. And while on that thought, Kalasin was hard put to decide which aspect described her position as seen by this country better; the fact that there was deemed a whole room needed for putting on and taking off clothing, or the fact that the amount of women seen as required to help her filled up that entire room.

She honestly couldn't see that there could possibly be enough jobs to merit so many helpers for any one body, Empress or not.

But obviously The _Princess_ thought there could be, and what _she_ said was law – in the royal palace at least. At that thought, Kalasin deepened her grimace into a scowl. For all the chess games she'd played with her father that were meant to 'expand her thinking', she just couldn't wrap her mind the twisted power situation in this palace.

She was the Empress (but for the formal coronation at least) of what was essentially the most powerful country in the known world…and she was forced to let her mother-in-law pick her clothing. Or, at least, her mother-in-law had to power to veto any of her personal clothing choices – which happened often, _much_ too often.

Kalasin remembered the one time someone had tried to force her mother into something she didn't want to wear. It had been her unfortunate father who'd been stuck with the task of convincing her to wear a rather tasteless dress that had been sent by the Cobbler's Guild. After delivering a resounding slap to the side of her husband's head, Thayet had quietly demanded a dress with 'more _dress_ than holes!' – and she'd gotten it.

However, Kalasin thought the chances of her being permitted to slap The Princess were about equal to her odds of be able to ask furiously if she had _so little of a life that she had to resort to torturing a girl who was still in her teens over how high her heels were for amusement_! (If she'd thought there was any possibility of either, she'd have done it by now.)

Heels which, to her great pain, seemed to rise higher and higher with every occasion. The only thought that comforted her was that it might be a breakthrough from the Carthakis' ridiculous gender issues if she soon towered over Kaddar at social functions.

And speak of the Dream God's nightmare...

"So, our little _Tortallan_ Empress," the voice beside her ear made her freeze – the curse with which the speaker said the word 'Tortallan' identified her, "what do you think about wearing these for the charity luncheon?"

Kalasin darted a peek at the shoes The Princess was holding, and immediately wished she hadn't. Her skin lost its normal tint of ivory as she stared at the gaudy horror blazing in front of her.

"Yes, products from the Copper Isles are always so distinctive, aren't they?" Kalasin couldn't see how anyone could sound like they were making idle conversation while holding shoes that...well, looked like they could either be used to stab a person to death, or blind them.

_She_ was still talking, oblivious to – or perhaps because of Kalasin's revulsion, "Everyone always says they have a tendency to put jewels everywhere, but this completely fits that case, doesn't it, little Empress? Why look, there isn't an area that doesn't glitter copper and blue! Quite impressive, think you not?"

Fazia's voice lifted into what Kalasin could swear was a cackle at the next phrase, "But that's not even the best part! _These_ actually have gems sewn inside the shoe as well. I suppose it's their idea of a joke, that you have so much wealth that not all of it can be shown! Isn't that simply adorable?"

_Inside_ the shoe? But…wouldn't that mean…

"Of course, it'll be a little prickly to wear. But you can manage it, can't you?"

Aghast, and desperately praying that what she thought The Princess meant was wrong, Kalasin reached out and seized the shoe. Seeing the glinting edges of the large sapphire inside, she snapped and threw it to the floor.

"I. will. not!"

Hearing the furious outburst from the normally reserved Kalasin caused all the maids in the room to stop dead and stare incredulously. The Princess sharply snapped her fingers twice, and glared them all out of the room.

She paused for a good while after the last had exited before speaking.

"We need to have a talk, little Empress, you and I…"

Realizing she was now alone with Fazia made Kalasin's throat clench, this hadn't happened since the wedding night weeks ago...that she really preferred to forget, but her determined gaze never wavered. She was her mother's daughter, and this..._witch_ was not going to get her way again. "I said, that I. will. not. wear that death-trap!"

To her surprise, her opponent rolled her eyes. "Not about the shoes."

And though the next words spoken completely contradicted that statement, Kalasin couldn't help knowing that it was merely an analogy for something bigger.

"The sapphires were especially for you, you know, that famous Conte blue…" She gave an amused chuckle at that, not believing that anything related to Kalasin could be worthy of fame.

Fazia bent down and carefully picked up the shoe, turning it around in her hands. "Do you see? It's not even scratched from your little...temper tantrum. They put their best workmanship into this as an offering for you, and that means you must wear it as an acceptance."

"No. How do I even know it's a real gift? For all I know you could have had it fashioned, and lied about it just to make me miserable!" Even as she knew she shouldn't say the words she did, letting them rush out in a livid, barely-coherent stream. This was the most honest she'd been since coming here, and it felt liberating, with just a touch of cold fear at the reaction it would cause.

"Silly girl," her tone was contemptuous, yet almost…pitying?

"You're on Carthaki soil, yet all your actions can have direct reprisals for Tortall. The Copper Isles are one of our most prominent allies, even with that ugly mad one on the throne. It may seem like only a pair of…interestingly crafted shoes, but it's a symbol of more than that, and do you honestly think rejecting it will be seen as fulfilling your purpose to us, and therefore to your homeland?"

"And as for your previous accusation…Yes, I _could_ have just made this up, because no matter what, it will be my power against yours, my influence against yours."

Fazia dropped the shoe and put her hands on either side of Kalasin's face. She was frozen, unable to move, the hollow thud of the shoe contacting the floor matching the feeling in her lower stomach.

Surprisingly, her touch was soft… her words anything but.

"My poor little dear, you oversee your position here. I am mother of the Emperor, whilst_ you_ are only the unofficial peace treaty between Tortall and Carthak. You were put here for two purposes only, you surely know that; as a human exchange for good relations, and to produce heirs to tie the knot yet closer."

"You're failing one of those terms as it is," her malicious words and glinting eyes stabbed through that accusation in Kalasin's heart together, though she knew full well it was her own son, and not Kalasin that prevented _that_ particular goal from being fulfilled.

"Even if I had fabricated this gift story myself, would you risk it?"

"_Could you dare risk it?_"

Knowing she'd won, Fazia didn't wait around for the tears. She simply swept out of the room. Kalasin could hear her summoning the helping-women back inside, and while hastily wiping away the hot droplets on her cheeks; she missed the last sentence that The Princess told them.

She knew soon enough.

As the maids streamed back into the room, she could hear them murmuring a new tasty piece of information to each other.

"_Poor little dear_, she's weeping because her husband refuses to let her in his bed. The Princess told me herself! She wouldn't specify why of course, what a stately woman she is! But surely it's something _horrible..._"

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Minutes after the luncheon started, Kalasin managed to sneak off and pry off the jewels that had been attacking her feet. Dropping them into the dung pit, she felt no triumph at ridding herself of the torture.

It was far from a victory, and she knew it.

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**A/N: Review please, constructive criticism please. Praise if you think this deserves it. And flames if you'll tell me why - no wait, that's CC...look how well that works out!**


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